


Love Letter

by ThoseDaysThatWill



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - AHL, Alternate Universe - Children, Alternate Universe - Retail, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Gen, M/M, Unrepentant Fluff, Winnipeg Jets
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-01-10 22:09:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18416843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThoseDaysThatWill/pseuds/ThoseDaysThatWill
Summary: An Alternate Universe imagining the boys working together in a sporting good store. (With soulmate elements.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was in an AU mood, don't take it too seriously.

“Thank _you_ and you have a _nice_ day.” The sarcasm was dripping from Ben’s voice, but if the woman now heading for the door noticed, she didn’t stop to comment. And she was the type that would have commented, and then asked to see his manager. He waited until he saw the door close before he picked up the phone and dialed into the overhead speaker, “She’s gone. Hallelujah! Someone lock the fucking door.”

“Already there!” Adam called as the bolt clicked loudly into place, “It’s 9:23! What the hell, lady!” Having double checked that no customers could sneak in, he wandered over to the bank of cash registers, “What did she need _so_ badly that we had to stay open an extra half hour?”

Ben didn’t look up from where he was closing out the register, “Socks.”

“You’re kidding. Tell me you’re kidding. Twenty-three minutes to get _socks_?!”

He shook his head, “You know those copper compression socks?” He didn’t wait for an answer. They had been a hot item when they’d first come in, they all knew them. “And let me tell you about the _seven fucking minutes_ she spent standing right here, telling me about the veins in her legs and how the socks are going to help her circulation. I timed her. Seven minutes and twenty-five seconds.”

Adam patted his shoulder, “Congratulations, you’re now employee of the month. Because you didn’t punch her.”

“Thank you, I accept my award, and it should come with a raise. And a drink.” He picked up the cash drawer, “Come out back and keep me company while I count this.”

Adam shook his head, “Can’t. Got a huge mess down back. Nik’s on it, but if I don’t help him, he’ll murder me.”

“What happened?”

Adam balled his fists up, and Ben wondered if he shouldn’t have asked. Not that ‘shouldn’t’ would have stopped him, even if he’d thought about it. “These two asshole teenagers were trying out the bats—”

Ben’s eyes went wide, “ _In here_? There’s no room for that!”

“No shit. And one of them knocks into that whole display of golf balls—y’know the NHL one that has all the _loose_ balls that I _said_ shouldn’t be in a cardboard dump in the middle of the store like that. And he knocks it clear across the department. And then leaves it. If I had caught them, I would have beat them with the bat. Now Nik is trying to find all the golf balls and I have to go help him.”

Ben did his best not to laugh, but he barely kept it in before Adam turned and stomped off towards the baseball department. Ben managed to bring the drawer into the back room before he burst out laughing.

From the office, a voice asked, “Do I want to know what’s so funny?”

Ben sat at the table, and started counting out the drawer, “I’m overtired, and Nik and Adam are chasing golf balls.”

Blake emerged in the doorway of his office, “In other words, no.”

He didn’t dare look up, “Probably not.”

Blake shook his head, “After you count that and do the slip, you can go. We’ll clean up.”

Ben paused, halfway through the stack of twenty-dollar bills, because he learned the hard way that he was incapable of speaking and counting at the same time, “Nah, I’m Adam’s ride.”

“He still hasn’t gotten his car fixed?”

Ben grinned, “You don’t pay him enough.”

Blake rolled his eyes, “I don’t get paid enough to deal with you people either.” At that, he went back into his office.

In truth, they were paid well enough, as retail jobs went. Blake didn’t own the store, he just tried to manage it as best he could, and they could all appreciate that. He understood that they had lives away from the job and was always good about setting their schedules around that as much as he could. Their main complaints came from the wide range of very strange customers that came through the doors on a daily basis.

For the most part, people that went into a sporting goods store were there because they wanted something specific. Maybe there was some browsing in the memorabilia section, but people who wanted equipment knew what they wanted. Which meant that they often sought out an employee as soon as they stepped foot inside. Their store wasn’t huge, but it wasn’t small either. Bringing customers back and forth kept them busy and helped pass the shifts quickly.

And then there was always the steady stream of people there just for the tape. The store had a whole wall covered in rolls of different colored and patterned athletic tape. Back in the day, people covered their soulmate marks with gloves, but in the modern era, that just wasn’t practical with all the touch-screen technologies out there. So, athletic tape had become the vogue way to cover your mark because it didn’t leave residue, it allowed full range of movement, and you could cut it down to just cover that particular patch of skin.

Marks almost always appeared on the hands or wrists, but stories were told of them showing up in much more embarrassing places. It was considered pretty trashy to have your mark just out there for anyone to see, no matter where it was, especially if it contained a common first name letter. Like tight pants or a low-cut shirt, it looked like you were trolling. Everyone said that the mark was just to prove it anyway, that you’d _know_ when you met them. Some people say that your mark even burns or tingles when they’re close. Adam swore that was true, but Ben had always been skeptical.

By the time Ben had finished with his drawer and slipped the money into the safe, he could hear Adam and Nikolaj yelling at each other from the back of the store. He couldn’t understand the words from where he was, and he really didn’t want to go out there and get in the middle of it. But as he lingered at the door, he caught Blake’s eye from his office.

“You go out there or I will.” He threatened.

Ben sighed. He wasn’t even an assistant manager, why was this his job? “I got it.” He stepped out into the store just in time to see a golf ball soar over a stack of shoeboxes and bounce three times on the linoleum floor before hitting the wall beside him, “Are you guys crazy?”

Adam’s head popped up from behind his shoebox barricade, “It wasn’t my fault.”

Ben ran a hand through his hair with another sigh, “Did you fix the display?”

“Well… yeah.” Adam looked sheepish, “But he wouldn’t let me put the St Louis ones on, because he found them. So, I grabbed another one and threw it at him. And then he threw one at me, so I ducked behind the cleats. And that’s when you came out.”

Ben just stared at him, “How fucking old are you?!” From behind him, Nikolaj snickered. Ben turned around and pointed at him, “You are no better! I should have let Blake come out here and yell at you both. I’m tired, I want to go home, and my drawer was minus two and I _hate_ when that happens. Get your acts together and finish cleaning up.”

Neither Adam nor Nikolaj said a word as they sheepishly picked up the last few rogue golf balls and finished the display. They exchanged a few looks, both silently trying to figure out who would be the one to ask. Ben watched them do it, and the silliness of the gestures cooled his mood off. “I never said you couldn’t talk.” He pointed out.

Adam made a face at that, “Oh yeah. Did he not come in today?”

Ben shook his head, “Not that I saw.”

“If he was here, he would have _made sure_ you saw. He always does,” Nikolaj pointed out.

Ben nodded to the truth in that. At first, he had just been another customer, then he became a repeat customer, then Ben noticed he’d come in when he didn’t need anything. He had made casual friends with a lot of the guys that worked there. He talked European football with Nikolaj, which worked for everyone since he was the only employee that cared about it.  He and Ben had never talked about anything other than store products or last night’s game, but Ben looked for him every day. He wasn’t sure if it was wishful thinking or if the mark on the back of his thumb really did burn a little after those conversations.

“What about you?” Ben was eager to change the subject, “I didn’t see Shinny today.”

Adam blushed, just like he always did when that particular repeat customer was mentioned. Considering the amount of facial hair Adam sported, if his blush was visible, he was _really_ blushing. “Nah, he’s working today.”

Ben snorted a laugh, “You’ve got his schedule down and you haven’t asked his _name_ yet?”

“He just mentioned yesterday that he wasn’t gonna be able to--- I showed him those new pucks we got in with the raised bumps on them and he got one, and he said he wasn’t going to be able to use it because he was working today.”

Ben shook his head, “Did you ask _where_ he works?”

Adam frowned, ducking his head, “Uh… no.” He snapped his head up, “You didn’t ask yours either!”

“I didn’t have to,” Ben smirked, “He told me.”

Adam raised an eyebrow, “His name?”

It was Ben’s turn to frown, “No. But I know he’s going to school, that’s why he’s in the country.”

Nikolaj scoffed, “I could have told you that.”

Ben flipped him off, “But you _didn’t_ , so what good are you?”

When half of the lights in the store went out without warning, there were three sighs of ‘finally’. The lights going out could only mean that it was time to leave. Blake emerged from the back room, keys in hand. “While you were standing around chatting, you were _straightening_ too, right?”

Ben nodded, barely keeping a straight face, “Of course we were, boss. We _live_ to clean this store.” As if to prove his point, he neatened up a stack of baseball caps.

“Of course,” Blake echoed, leading them to the front door. He pressed a few buttons on the panel beside the door, setting the alarm. Once it was satisfied that there was no one in the store eager to steal a handful of dumbbells or basketball shorts, he unlocked the door and released them into the cold night air. “Be careful.” Blake called after Nikolaj who had already pedaled halfway down the sidewalk. He raised a hand in reply before fading into the darkness beyond the floodlights.

Ben looked over to Adam as they got into his car, “You hungry?”

Adam nodded, “Pretty much always.”

“Pizza?” Ben asked, but he didn’t wait for an answer before taking the turn to head towards their usual pizza place. Adam didn’t reply, but Ben hadn’t expected him to. He caught, out of the corner of his eye, that Adam was tapping on the patch of blue tape on the back of his wrist. “You really think he’s it?”

Adam nodded, “Think so.”

“Are you going to tell him?”

Adam scoffed, “What am I supposed to say? Excuse me, I think you’re my soulmate, and by the way, what’s your name?”

Ben laughed a little, “Well, maybe start with asking his name?”

Adam shot him a _look_. Since marks always contained the first letter of the first name of your soulmate, asking a stranger’s name was considered very rude and unforgivingly forward. Adam was neither of those things.

It also wasn’t considered proper to share exactly what letter you sported with anyone but those closest to you. This taboo lead to a very awkward time between Adam and Ben when they had first started working together. Ben became convinced that something was very wrong with Adam after knowing him about two weeks, but it took another two before Adam finally broke down and confessed that while he liked Ben, he felt no interest in Ben and he was extremely worried about that since he was the first friend he’d made whose first name shared the letter incorporated in his mark. Ben had assured him that _his_ letter didn’t match, and that Adam would meet some Brad or Brian that he liked a whole lot more.

Ben laughed at the glare from Adam, “Maybe he’s Bartholomew or Bernardo.” He had come up with a long series of names that started with that letter to suggest to Adam, each one more absurd than the last. He was endlessly grateful that he’d never shared his letter with Adam, and he kept his thumb carefully taped over.

“So long as he’s not another Benny, I’m fine with _whatever_ his name is.” That was Adam’s standard reply for every list of names Ben came up with.

By the time they arrived at the pizza place, Adam had started telling a story about a customer that had dragged him all around the store earlier in the day, and he continued chattering away as they walked inside.

“Order up!” The man behind the counter announced, “Order for Brandon.”

Ben was about to make a joke about that being another name it _could_ be when Adam stopped short. He followed Adam's wide-eyed stare to the counter, to watch the regular customer they had nicknamed ‘Shinny’ walk up to claim his pizza.

“Well,” Ben offered, “At least now you know his name.”


	2. Chapter 2

Adam stood, frozen to the spot. For all the joking that Ben had done about what his name could have been, he couldn’t remember if he had guessed it correctly. Probably, because the name was common enough. He scratched the piece of tape on the back of his wrist, without thinking about why it had suddenly become itchy.

He had been chatting with him for a while now, always at the store, always about the pick-up hockey he played on the weekends. Adam had recommended sticks and different kinds of street hockey balls, and floor hockey pucks. They’d talked about skates, but it didn’t sound like he actually played on ice anymore. He’d played in college, he had said. That’s all they talked about, though, just hockey. He didn’t know anything about him _personally_.

Except now, he knew his name. _Brandon._ He knew that his name _fit_. He knew it was now as _possible_ as he had thought it was.

“Are you going to say something?” Ben asked.

Adam startled a little, he had actually forgotten Ben was standing there. His attention had been so focused on watching the guy— _Brandon_ paying for his pizza. “What am I supposed to say?” He kept his voice low.

“Why don’t you invite him to the Moose game?” Ben suggested.

Adam looked at him, “You think so?” They _had_ talked about hockey, Adam reasoned in his head, it wouldn’t be so crazy to invite him to a hockey game.

Ben shrugged, “Why not?”

Adam nodded, that was as good a reason as any. He had a moment of panic when he looked up to the counter and found it empty. A quick scan of the restaurant located him heading for the door. He took a couple steps towards him, “Hey.” _Smooth_.

Brandon looked up, a startled expression on his face which quickly melted into a smile, “Oh, hey. Funny seeing you here.”

Adam rubbed the back of his neck. Did he really need to smile at him like that? It made his brain go all scrambled. “Yeah. Uh, I closed today and… uh, we were getting pizza.”

Brandon nodded, the smile still lingering on his lips, “Me too.” He gestured to the pizza box in his hand.

“Oh yeah.” He paused a second. “Can I ask you something?”

Brandon raised an eyebrow, “Sure.”

Adam took in a deep breath, “So, uh… yeah, I remember we were talking about hockey and, uh, my buddies and I are going to a Moose game on Wednesday, and I was wondering if you… if you wanna go with us. It’s, y’know, pretty good hockey, but for like not a million bucks per ticket.” He had a feeling his cheeks were pink, but he hoped the beard covered enough of it to at least pass for something other than a complete loser.

Brandon smiled, “Oh. Um, yeah. We’ve been to a few AHL games, because yeah, the tickets are really reasonable as compared to trying to get NHL tickets. I used to live right near an AHL team. And they are really fun. Good hockey, like you said. But… I’m not sure if I can make it Wednesday. I have to check my, uh, schedule.”

Adam didn’t miss the ‘we’ in there, or the pause before ‘schedule’, but he also noticed that he didn’t say _no_ outright, so he was at least halfway there. And Brandon had kept smiling the whole time he was talking, which meant he wasn’t creeped out by the invitation. But he hadn’t said yes either.

Adam took in another deep breath, and let the words come out before he thought too hard about them, “How about I give you my number? You can let me know.” He was positive he was blushing now.

Brandon’s cheeks were a little pink, too, as he took his phone out of his pocket. After a few quick taps, he handed it to Adam, “Go ahead and put your number in there.”

Adam looked at the blank contact form. He had to fill in his name. It actually asked for first _and_ last name, right out there like that. There were some people that thought that mark _could_ stand for your soulmate’s _last_ name, but the general idea was that people said that when they _wanted_ someone to fit even if they didn’t. He hadn’t met anyone that had actually _stayed_ with a person that had matched their last name to the letter. But all the same, it _could_ happen. He typed his first and last name in the blanks. If he wanted to know, he could know. He typed in his number and hit ‘done’ before handing it back to him.

Brandon slipped the phone into his pocket without looking, “I’ll call you tomorrow… to let you know.” He gave him a smile that was half shy and half something else that Adam couldn’t place, but still made his stomach flipflop all the same.

Adam nodded, “Cool.” He watched Brandon walk out of the restaurant and even a little way into the parking lot through the glass of the door.

“So?” Ben spoke up from behind him.

For the second time in not long enough, he startled at his voice, “The fuck you’re sneaking up on me for?” He snapped.

Ben just looked at him, his head tipped a little to the side, and an eyebrow raised.

Adam frowned, “Sorry. Uh, he said he’d let me know.”

“Well, that’s not ‘no’, so that’s something.” He pointed out. “I ordered for you, by the way.”

Adam nodded, unsurprised by that. They always got the same thing. He dropped down onto the bench near the door with a sigh, “He said _we’d_ been to a lot of games. We. Who is _we_?”

Ben shrugged, “Could be anyone. Could mean growing up with his parents or with a sibling? Or maybe he works with a bunch of assholes that he likes to hang out with. _We_ doesn’t have to be a _thing_.”

“Maybe.” Adam tapped on the tape on his wrist, it was feeling itchy again. “ _Maybe_.”

~

Brandon balanced the pizza in one hand and unlocked his apartment door with the other, trying to keep as quiet as he could. The person sitting on his couch rose to meet him at the door. She took the pizza from him to Brandon’s thankful smile. “Everything go okay?”

She nodded, placing the pizza on the kitchen counter for him, “No problems at all.”

“Thank you.” He took his wallet out, handing her a couple bills, “I texted you my schedule for next week, did you see any conflicts?”

She shook her head, pocketing the money without counting it, “No, those dates are all fine with me.”

“Great. Thanks again.” He held the door open for her as she gathered her things into a backpack, “I appreciate you being so flexible.”

She gave him a smile, “I’m glad to do it. Good night, Mr. Tanev.”

Brandon returned the smile, “Good night.” He locked the door behind her and headed further into his apartment. He stopped by the first closed door in the hallway, and very carefully pushed it open just a bit, as to not allow too much light into the room. But it was a pointless gesture. “You’re supposed to be asleep.”

A pair of bright blue eyes looked up from the drawing pad in his lap, and the grin quickly followed, lighting up his whole face, “I know, but I wasn’t tired!”

“It’s past ten o’clock, Luka.” He used the child’s nickname to let him know he wasn’t _really_ in trouble. Brandon’s mother had been delighted that he’d given his child a name that lent itself to a _Macedonian_ nickname, (she never liked that his brother went by ‘Chris’) and it had stuck. Honestly, Brandon liked finding his son awake when he got home from work on a Friday night when he could let him sleep late the next day. He constantly felt guilty about the amount of time he spent at work, so he relished any time he could spend with him.

Lucas’ grin turned sheepish, “But I had a idea!”

“ _An_ idea.” Brandon corrected gently.

Lucas huffed, “ _An_ idea. And I draw’ed it.”

“ _Drew_ it.”

Another huff, “ _Drew_ it. For you!” He held up the drawing pad to show him. For being six, he wasn’t half bad as an artist. The picture on the page was clearly some kind of robotic creature, the bolts and seams making that obvious. The best Brandon could figure, it was destroying some city.

“That looks _great_. You can color it tomorrow and we’ll hang it up.” He took the pad gently from his hands and put it on his nightstand, “But you _do_ need to get some sleep now.”

A third huff. That wasn’t even close to Lucas’ huff record though, just about everything that wasn’t hockey or art put him out. “But I want some pizza!”

Brandon laughed, not surprised that he could smell it from in there, “Didn’t Sophia make you dinner?”

Lucas issued huff number four, “Yeah, but it wasn’t _pizza_.” He gave him his best pleading look, “Just _one_ piece? _Please,_ Daddy?”

Brandon ducked his head against the laugh he couldn’t keep in, “Okay, _one_ piece. And only because it’s Friday.”

Jumping out of his bed, Lucas gave a loud cheer. “Did you get all the good stuff on it?” He asked, running past him and into the kitchen, bare feet slapping on the wood floors.

“What else would I get?” Brandon followed after him, not nearly as excited as his child about the meal. He got to the kitchen just in time to see Lucas about to pull the whole box down onto himself and snatched it just before it became a mess. “Hey, you know about that!”

“I’m _getting_ taller!” Lucas reminded him. He was on the short side for his age but refused to admit it.

Brandon put the pizza back on the counter. “You _are_ , but you still need to wait.” He picked the boy up, sitting him on the counter beside the box. He stood close by, but let Lucas open the box and pick out his own slice. He knew from experience that too much help was just going earn him another huff. At the same time, he may have subtly held on to the slices on either side of the one his son wanted, making it easier for him to pick up the one he’d chosen. It was always a balancing act with a kid as independent as his.

After chewing the first bite of his own slice, Brandon spoke, his tone serious, “I have something I need to talk to you about.”

Lucas looked up at him, “Are we gonna move again?”

Brandon sighed. The move from Rhode Island had been hard on both of them. Some of the reasons were the same, some each of their own. It broke his heart to see Lucas not exactly upset about the idea of a move, but more resigned to it. Six was too young to just accept things like that. He reached out to brush his son’s mop of dark hair out of his eyes, “No, Luka, we’re not moving. Do you like it here?” He’d asked him that before, the answer was always a mixed bag.

This time, Lucas nodded, “Yeah, it’s okay. I like playing hockey here better.”

Brandon laughed at that, “You’ve only been to two practices, and you already know that?”

“Mmhmm, the coach doesn’t yell at anybody.” Lucas informed him as if that should be the most obvious reason to enjoy anything. It made Brandon angry at his coach back in Rhode Island all over again. What was there to yell at a five-year-old about?

“That’s good.” Brandon spoke slowly, “I actually wanted to talk to you about hockey. A… _friend_ of mine invited us to a hockey game next week.”

It was strange to call the guy from the sporting goods store a friend, but it was too weird to tell his child that a guy he flirted with over hockey sticks had asked him. He knew his name now; he’d checked the contact in his phone the minute he was in his car. _Adam_. Everyone told him that relying on the _myth_ that the mark could mean a last name was a stupid move. And they had been right. His brand-new divorce decree proved that. And now he’d met _Adam_. The mark over the pulse point in his wrist twinged every time he thought about him.

He was fully aware that Adam had only invited Brandon, not both of them, but the fact he had offered an invitation gave Brandon enough courage to finally tell him about Lucas. And to tell him that he came as a package deal, or not at all. If he wasn’t okay with it, he told himself, he’d buy them tickets himself. But something in him told him Adam _would_ be okay with it. He just had to make sure that he, himself, was okay with it first. And to know that, he had to gage Lucas’ reaction.

Lucas’ eyes went wide, “Really?! Like a _real_ game?!”

“Well, it’s an AHL game,” Brandon admitted. “But that’s _close_ to real.”

He nodded quickly, “That counts! That’s _so cool!_ ”

Brandon laughed, “Yeah, it’s pretty cool. I’d like you to meet my friend.”

“What’s his name?” Lucas asked. Little kids didn’t have the same taboo about asking names like adults did, and Brandon found himself jealous of that. If he could have asked in the beginning, he would have saved himself a lot of wondering.

He considered if he wanted to tell him or not. “ _Adam_.” It was the first time he’d said it out loud.

Lucas’ eyes went wide, “That matches—” After he had mastered the alphabet, everything that started with _that_ letter was significant to him, since he’d seen it on his father’s wrist.

“Yes.” Brandon interrupted, not wanting to get into _that_ right then and there. “You think you’d like to go to a hockey game with me and him?”

Lucas nodded, his hair flopping into his face, “Uh huh!”

Brandon smiled, “Okay, I’ll tell him we want to go.” He helped Lucas clean his hands before picking him up. “You’ve had your pizza, now it’s time for bed.”

Lucas didn’t protest, but instead rested his head against his father’s shoulder. By the time Brandon laid him down in his bed, his eyes were at half-mast. Brandon pulled the blanket over him and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead, “Good night, Luka.”

He gave a murmured reply, but the moment he turned over, he was asleep. Brandon stood beside his bed, watching him for a moment, wondering if he was doing the right thing. He did that a lot, but more and more he was trying not to get lost in it. He headed for the living room, closing Lucas’ door behind him.

He stretched out on the couch, looking at that entry in the contact information on his phone. He had wanted it to be true. He had felt something every time he talked to him, and he wanted it to be real. He had thought he'd seen something from him too. And now he knew it was at least _possible_. But did he have enough left to deal with that information? He hoped so. He peeled the tape off his wrist, running his thumb over the mark there. He could do this. _They_ could do this. He drifted off to sleep, still dressed, staring at that name. _Adam_.


	3. Chapter 3

“Code three-five-eight.” Nikolaj’s voice came over the loudspeaker.

Ben groaned but kept his focus on the customer he was checking out. He made himself _not_ look over towards the door, as much as he wanted to. He hated when Nikolaj did that to him, and he’d told him that, but of course that didn’t stop him. Come to think of it, that probably encouraged him to do it _more_ and to encourage others to do it too. He made a mental note to do something mean to him at some point in the future.

“Are you going to give me a bag or what?” The customer across the counter rolled his eyes.

Ben frowned, but said nothing, as he bagged his purchases. Despite what his performance review always said, he _had_ learned to hold his tongue _sometimes._ “You have a _nice_ day.” He was proud of himself for having left off the ‘asshole’ at the end of that sentence.

Once the customer had walked away, a voice commented, “Some people can be so rude.”

Against his will, Ben found himself smiling at the sound of _that_ voice with _that_ accent. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been standing there, but when he looked over to him, he was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. Like he had every right in the world to just stand next to his register and watch him do his job. Not that Ben had a complaint. He really _did_ have every right to stand there as far as he was concerned. “Yeah, but it comes with the job.” He shrugged it off.

Sami (not that Ben knew his name, and he would have given almost _anything_ to know it) shook his head, “My mama would—I don’t know the English word, but she would be mad if I talk to a stranger like that.”

Ben laughed, “Well, if your mama ever finds her way here, I’ll tell her how polite you are.” He watched the blush bloom on Sami’s cheeks, yet managed to keep to himself how well that look suited him.

Sami ducked his head a little, “ _Kiitos._ ”

“Oh, I know that one. I think that’s the _only_ Finnish word I know.” Ben grinned at him.

Sami tisked, shaking his head. The gesture caused his hair to fall into his face, and he tucked it behind his ears. Watching him do it, Ben might have felt a tingle creep across the mark on his thumb, but he ignored it. He also ignored how badly he wanted to be the one to tuck his hair like that. Sami was speaking, but it took him a minute to be able to focus in on the words instead of the thoughts racing around his mind.

“I can teach you other words, but _kiitos_ is a good one to know.” He grinned, “To be polite.”

That grin caused a reaction in Ben that he wasn’t ready to deal with yet. He shook that off. “I am _nothing_ if not polite. No matter what my boss says.”

“I will tell him you are _very_ polite.” Sami laughed.

Ben struggled to keep his tone light, but that laugh wasn’t the least bit fair. “ _Kiitos_.” He offered, attempting to copy his accent as best he could.

Judging by Sami’s snickering laugh, he wasn’t very successful, but still he said, “You say that very good.”

Ben gave him a smile, and then took in a deep breath. He’d been thinking—overthinking—how he was going to say what he wanted to say. He wasn’t sure if it was going to be weird, or too much, considering he didn’t even know the guy’s name, but he’d never know if he didn’t try.

Before he could decide against it, he said, “So… a couple of my buddies, some guys that work here, we’re going to a hockey game on Wednesday. It’s the AHL team here, because y’know the tickets are a lot cheaper than trying to see the NHL team, and it’s still good hockey. I was wondering if… you want to go with us.” He didn’t let himself so much as take a breath until he got all the words out.

Silence hung in the air as Sami slowly blinked at him. After just a little bit too long, he said, “You talk very fast. But I think… you invite me to some hockey?”

Ben couldn’t help the laugh, “Uh, sorry about that, I guess I can talk fast.” The truth was, he normally didn’t, but Sami did something strange to his brain, “Yeah, I did invite you to some hockey. On Wednesday.”

“I would very much like that. I have not seen hockey since I come here. Thank you for invite me.” Sami’s smile turned shy and Ben didn’t like that one bit. He spoke perfectly fluent English and yet he couldn’t think of a single word of it for a moment.

“Uh, you’re welcome. How do you say that in Finnish?”

Sami’s smile lit up, “ _Ole hyvä_.”

“Ole… uh, ole… whatever you said.”

Sami laughed, “You tried.”

Despite the fact that Ben felt verbally patted on the head, he was a little proud that he _had_ tried. Of course, he might have looked up some Finnish on his own time beforehand and despite having even practiced some of it, couldn’t think of a single word he’d taught himself, including those words he’d just said. Sami didn’t have to know how badly Finnish escaped him. He’d take the praise for even attempting it.

He made a face at him, but laughed too, “ _Kiitos_. Anyway, we’re meeting here at six on Wednesday, so we can take one car together, easier parking. You can come with us if you want.”

Sami nodded, “Good, I know how to get _here_. Your friends, they will not mind me? They don’t know me.”

Ben shook his head, speaking before his brain caught up with his mouth, “Oh, they already know all about you. I told them I was gonna invite you. They don’t have a problem with it.”

Sami raised an eyebrow, “You talk about me?”

Ben’s eyes went wide for just a second when it dawned on him what he’d said. He gave a self-conscious laugh, “Well, yeah… sometimes.”

He leaned in a little, a grin playing across his lips, creating quite the devious look, “Can I tell you something?”

Ben nodded, not trusting his voice against that exact expression.

Sami nearly whispered, still grinning, “Your friend, he needed a better _code_. I call home _all the time_.”

Ben didn’t blush often, but he was pretty sure he was blushing at that, “Oh God, you heard that?” He had been under the impression that Nikolaj had always made the announcement if he caught him coming towards the store, not in front of him. The code wasn’t exactly subtle. Nothing Nikolaj ever did was subtle. But what was worse was that his coworkers had taken up the code when Nikolaj wasn’t there.

“Someone says it every time I come in. Yes, I hear it.” Sami bit his lip against the laugh, but it didn’t stop the expression from being all over his face.

Ben took in a deep breath, “I’m going to kill him.”

This time Sami’s laugh was nearly a giggle, “No, I like it. Because if I hear it, I know you are working. If I don’t hear it… why should I be here? I leave.”

Ben smiled widely at that, “Yeah? Well… maybe I’ll let him live _this_ time.” Out of the corner of his eye he caught a customer heading towards the ‘wait here’ sign, “I’ve gotta go… work.”

He ducked his head a little, his blush brightening, “Oh sorry, I distract you. I have to go to class soon anyway. But I will see you Wednesday.”

Sami reached out a hand to brush very lightly over the tape on Ben’s thumb. Ben had never really believed in any of those legends about what a mark would do in the face of meeting _that_ person, but as Sami’s hand grazed over the tape, he could feel the mark ignite. It was painful without actually being _painful_. There wasn’t any denying that feeling, even if he wanted to. He tried to keep it all off of his face and he hoped he succeeded enough not to make an ass of himself.

“Yeah… Wednesday.” He managed to get at least those words out. He watched Sami walk out of the store, and even kept staring at the door until the customer in his line cleared her throat. “Uh, sorry about that.” He muttered, turning back to his register, hoping that he still had enough functioning brain cells to do his job, though he highly doubted it. How the hell was he going to survive waiting until Wednesday?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> +358 is the country code for Finland.


	4. Chapter 4

Adam had been staring at his phone for over an hour. He had even gone as far as to turn on the ringer, so he’d _hear_ it in case he called when he wasn’t staring. He knew it was stupid, but he couldn’t help it. He had _said_ he’d call, but that didn’t mean anything. People say stuff like that all the time. Adam had replayed the conversation at the pizza place over and over in his head. Ben had said that ‘we’ didn’t have to mean someone, but what if it did? What if he was just being polite? What if he had no intention of calling?

He jumped a mile when the phone rang. The number that flashed across the top had an area code he didn’t recognize. An American phone number? Could that be his? He tried to remember if he’d heard an American accent from him, but nothing jumped out. He wasn’t sure if it would have, he spent so little time there as a kid. Maybe it wasn’t him? Only one way to find out. His heart racing, he answered the call. “Hello?”

There was silence on the other end.

“Hello?” Adam repeated.

“Oh, uh, hi. This is… this is Brandon.” He sounded as unsure and shaky as Adam had felt, which honestly made him feel a lot more confident all of a sudden.

“Hey, I’m glad you called.” Adam was glad to hear his own voice sound calm and sure.

Brandon sounded insulted, “I said I would.”

“People say that… I just—I’ve been thinking about you a lot.” Adam groaned silently. Why the hell did he said that out loud?! Way to sound like a complete weirdo.

Brandon laughed a little, “Me too.”

In the following silence, Adam thought he could hear a voice in the background, but he tried not to listen. For all he knew, his TV was on or he was at work. Adam was a champion at reading into things, so he was actively trying not to. He took in a deep breath, “So… about the hockey game?”

Brandon sighed, and Adam braced himself to be turned down. Instead, he said, “Could we meet for coffee first? There’s something we need to talk about.”

Adam’s heartrate jumped by about a hundred, but he fought to keep his voice calm, “Sure.” His mind was racing through all the things they could have to talk about. “Uh, when?”

“I’m free today, if you are.” The way Brandon said the phrase, Adam wondered if he’d practiced it. The thought made him feel better.

“Yeah. Uh, yeah, sure. Uh… in an hour? Or later?” He closed his eyes, glad Brandon couldn’t see the blush that was taking over his whole face. He couldn’t believe how _stupid_ he sounded.

Brandon laughed a little, “How about at three? We could meet at the café down the street from your store. Does that work for you?”

“Yeah. Sounds like a plan to me.” Adam wondered if it was actually possible to die of idiocy.

“Good.” Brandon took in a deep breath, “Adam….”

He was surprised by the shiver that slid up his spine at the sound of his own name. For a moment the only thought he had was ‘say that again’, but he had at least enough braincells firing to know that was a stupid thing to say. Instead, he mumbled, “Yeah?”

“I think… I think this could be something…” His voice trailed off, and Adam was glad that he wasn’t the only one tripping over his words.

“Me too.” _Brilliant_ reply.

He could hear the smile in Brandon’s voice, “Good. See you at three?”

“Yeah.” He repeated, for at least the thousandth time. “Looking forward to it.”

“Me too.” Brandon gave a little laugh before he ended the call.

Adam only then realized that during the call he’d scratched his wrist so hard the tape had come off. The letter branded there stared up at him and he quickly flipped his hand over. He couldn’t deal with that right now. He had more important things to worry about. He dialed one of his starred contacts.

He didn’t so much as get all of the word ‘hello’ out, before Adam spoke, “I need your car.”

“Huh?” Ben’s voice sounded scratchy.

Adam huffed, “I _said_ I need your car. Right now. I will give you _anything._ ”

There was silence for a moment and then, “You don’t have anything I want. And I have to get to work.”

Adam made a sound that he would never admit came from him, “But…”

“Shinny called?” Ben asked, sounding more awake now.

Adam sighed, “His name is _Brandon_. And yeah, he called. He wants to meet me today for coffee… uh, to _talk_.”

“ _Talk_.” Ben laughed, “Far be it for my paycheck to stand in the way of _talking_.”

Adam groaned, “What time are you working today?”

“Two to close.”

Adam perked up at that, “Oh, we can do this. Pick me up on your way to work. And then I can borrow your car from work, and I’ll bring it back before close. And I will do _anything_ for you. You just have to say ‘Adam, do this’ and I _swear_ whatever it is, I’ll do it.”

Ben barely held the laugh back, “Okay, okay, I can’t stand to hear a grown man beg. Well, at least not over the phone. Be sitting outside when I get there or I’m driving away.”

“I will!” Adam wasn’t sure if Ben heard that before he hung up, but it didn’t matter. He threw his phone onto his bed and headed for the shower.

~

Brandon glanced into the rearview mirror for the thousandth time since he pulled out of his apartment building’s lot. Lucas was oblivious to it, his focus completely on the tablet in his hands. He had the volume low, but Brandon could hear vague hockey sounds and the occasional excited goal call. “What’re you watching?”

Lucas didn’t look up, “Still Moose goals. I never seen them before, lots to watch.”

Brandon laughed. He had a feeling that was going to be his answer after he woke him up to ask him how to spell ‘Manitoba’ and had later reported with surprise that ‘moose’ had an ‘e’ on the end. Lucas had talked about nothing else all morning long. He was in the process of memorizing the roster, as he had done for the Providence Bruins last season. Brandon really envied his ability to adjust to the new situation so easily. His own hockey team, an AHL team, an art supply store, and he was happy. Sometimes Lucas made Brandon long to be six years old again.

He pulled into the parking lot of the café and cut the engine. His original plan had just been to _talk_ to Adam about Lucas, but his boy refused to be left behind. And honestly, he didn’t want to leave him home either. So, without warning, it would be trial by fire for Adam. He knew it should have worried him, but for some reason, it didn’t. Lucas was excited about it, and that really was all that mattered.

The clock on his radio flipped to three o’clock exactly. “Ready to go?” He asked.

Lucas made a humming sound and then the tablet went silent, “Can I bring it with me?” He asked.

Brandon shook his head, “It’s not polite to watch videos instead of talking when you meet someone.”

“But I can _show_ him the videos!” Lucas protested.

Brandon shook his head again, “If you need to show him something, I’ll bring it up on my phone, okay?”

Lucas considered this for a moment and then nodded, “Deal!”

By the time he had finished struggling with the seatbelt release, Brandon had his door open. He crouched down to see him at eye-level, “If you want to leave, you tell me, and we’ll go. Okay?”

Lucas huffed, “I _know_. But he’s an _A,_ Daddy. He’s gonna be cool.”

He couldn’t help the smile at that, pulling his son into a tight hug, “I hope you’re right, Luka.” Taking in a deep breath, he took his son’s hand and headed for the café. He spotted Adam sitting at a table by the window, sipping from a cup that clearly wasn’t hot anymore. He wondered how early he’d gotten there.

The moment they were inside, Lucas made a beeline for the pastry case, pressing against the glass. “I want a _cupcake!_ ” He announced, excitedly.

He was about to speak when he heard the voice from behind him, “ _Brandon_.”

He froze. He had thought the way Noel said his name was _it_. Maybe because he was too young and dumb to know better, or maybe because he _wanted_ so badly for him to be it. They had been too eager to make things work out the way they wanted them to. But hearing Adam say his name… he couldn’t imagine how he could have possibly thought anything _else_ was right.

He took a moment to calm himself down before he turned to look at him. _Oh wow_. He was very glad he managed not to say that out loud. Adam cleaned up _nicely_ and he was a little overwhelmed by it. He hadn’t expected… he didn’t know what he _had_ expected, but it wasn’t for his body to react the way it did. He was hardly a teenager, he shouldn’t be having those issues.

Brandon smiled, “I hope we didn’t keep you waiting.”

Adam shook his head, but his eyes went to Lucas, who was still staring longingly at the pastries, “Uh, no…”

Brandon watched him for a moment. “So, you see why I wanted to meet first.”

“He’s, um, yours?” Adam asked.

The wince that he caught on Adam’s face after the question made Brandon laugh. He nodded, pulling Lucas away from the desserts, “Yeah, he’s mine. Come say hi.”

Lucas turned his attention to Adam, giving him as critical a once-over as a six-year-old can. Whatever he saw, he approved of, because he nodded, “I’m Lucas!”

Adam smiled, holding his hand out to him, “I’m Adam. It’s nice to meet you, Lucas.”

Lucas shook his hand, “I _know_ your name. It starts with an A!”

Brandon wasn’t able to keep the groan from escaping and saw Adam’s eyes snap up to meet his. For a second, or an hour, they just held that look, and everything else faded into white noise. Finally, it was Adam that spoke, “Do you?”

Brandon nodded slowly, “You too?”

“Yeah…” His eyes finally left Brandon’s to slide down to look at Lucas. A deep breath, and he seemed to make some kind of decision in his own head, “So, I heard someone wants a cupcake?”

Lucas’ eyes lit up, “ _Yeah!_ A chocolate one.” He tugged Adam over to the case, to point it out, “See _that_ one? It has like _so much_ frosting!” He dropped his voice, “But don’t tell Daddy ‘bout that ‘cause he says not too much sugar.”

Adam grinned, lowering his voice to a stage whisper, “Don’t worry, I’ll tell Daddy it’s a muffin.” Louder, he turned to Brandon, “We’re getting our _very healthy_ muffins here. Why don’t you grab our table?”  

Lucas burst out laughing at that. And behind them, Brandon couldn’t help but laugh himself. “Black coffee, and whatever cookie looks the freshest.”

He reached for his wallet, but Adam shook his head, “It’s on me, go sit.”

“Yeah, Daddy, go sit. We’re getting _muffins_.” Lucas giggled.

Brandon held his hands up, “Okay, okay, I’m sitting.” He took a seat at the table Adam had vacated, opposite his empty cup. He watched them point to various things in the case, heads tipped together. From where he was, he couldn’t hear what they were saying, but every so often Lucas’ giggle would float over to him. He might have heard Adam giggle too, or it might have been wishful thinking.

By the time they made it back to the table, there was a finger-sized indent in the frosting of the cupcake Lucas was cradling in both hands. Brandon took the plate, giving his son a chance to climb up on the chair beside him without help. As soon as he was settled, Lucas went face first into the pile of frosting, squeaking happily.

Adam placed a mug and wax bag in front of Brandon before taking the seat opposite Lucas, watching him and sipping on his own coffee. After a moment he looked over to Brandon with a shy smile, “So…”

He couldn’t help the laugh, “So… if it’s okay with you, _we’d_ like to go to the hockey game with you on Wednesday. Of course, I’ll pay for his ticket.”

Adam grinned so brightly that Brandon nearly had to look away. When he’d talk to him in the store, he knew he was attractive, but seeing him like this, smiling like that, he was just _beautiful_ and suddenly Brandon was finding it hard to breathe. He tightened his grip on his mug so he wouldn’t reach out and touch him at that look. There was more than a small part of his mind that wondered what his beard would feel like against his own clean-shaven cheek.

“I can just add it to our order, no big deal.” Adam leaned in a little, “I’ll let you pay for our second date.”

Brandon felt his cheeks get hot, but he nodded with a smile, “Sounds like a deal to me.”

“Daddy, I need milk.” Lucas chimed in. Brandon winced looking over to his son. The frosting not only nearly covered his face and hands, but had somehow also gotten into his hair, too.  He was happily licking the frosting off his fingers, which only seemed to smear more on his face. Misreading his expression, Lucas added, “Please.”

Brandon gave his son a proud smile, “Good boy. Yeah, I’ll get you some milk, but don’t touch anything, okay? You done with the cupcake?”

Lucas shook his head, “It’s a _muffin_. And I’m not done.” To prove his point, he grabbed a handful of crumbs from the pile in front of him and shoved them into his mouth.

Brandon just shook his head, getting up to head over to the counter. As he walked away, he could hear Adam ask Lucas something, but he couldn’t make out the words. But the resulting squeak gave him a pretty good indication it was something about hockey. By the time he came back with the bottle, Lucas was gesticulating wildly with his chocolate-covered hands, sending crumbs of cupcake everywhere.

“And then! And then…. It was _tied_ and… and then he _scored!_ ” Lucas was yelling despite the fact Adam was leaning across the table listening intently.

“Yeah? That sounds like a _really_ good game.” Adam nodded.

Brandon took his seat again, “Inside voice, Luka.”

He gave a sheepish smile, “Oops. I was telling Adam ‘bout that time you scored that one time!”

Brandon shook his head, “That one time? You remember that game well?”

Lucas nodded intently, “I remember it!”

Brandon looked over to Adam, “If he’s talking about the one I think he’s talking about, he wasn’t yet two when that happened.”

“He was doing a pretty good play-by-play of it for me.” Adam laughed. “You were something in college, huh?”

Brandon blushed, turning his attention on attempting to clean his son’s face, “I did pretty well.”

“You ever think about going pro?” Adam’s eyes were on them and Brandon was very aware of it.

He shrugged, “Maybe for a minute. But life didn’t go that way, and I have Lucas to think about.” He tossed the napkin into the growing pile and picked up another one, “No regrets.”

Adam made a low sound in the back of his throat, and Brandon wasn’t exactly sure what that meant until he spoke, “I have a buddy that plays in a local league. You could… I was thinking about joining….”

Before Brandon could answer, Lucas squeaked, “ _Yeah!_ Daddy, you should play! And I could watch _you_. It’s way better on the ice than when you just play in the parking lot!”

“I’ll think about it.”

The rest of the ‘date’ was monopolized by Lucas excitedly telling Adam everything he could possibly think of about hockey and Adam listening intently, and occasionally asking questions. Brandon couldn’t have designed a scene to help him fall for Adam better than that one. He didn’t say much, just watched them. He didn’t notice how much time had passed until Lucas started blinking a lot longer than usual, the sugar crash hitting him.

“I think we’re going to get going….” Brandon jumped in during a lull in the conversation. Both Lucas and Adam gave disappointed groans, “But we’ll see Adam on Wednesday, remember.”

Lucas nodded, “Yeah, that’s gonna be _so fun_.”

Adam smiled, “I think so too. I’m going to count on you to tell me about what’s going on, okay? I think you have a good future in play-by-play. After your NHL career, obviously.”

Lucas giggled, “ _Yeah_.”

Brandon looked over the table, to make sure they’d cleaned it up the best they could, before standing up. As they walked out to the car, Lucas grabbed Adam’s hand. The startled look from Adam was priceless. He held his hand, though, and Brandon couldn’t help but be charmed by that. After he buckled Lucas in, and closed the door, he turned to Adam, “Thank you.”

Adam looked confused, “For what?”

“Being so kind to him. I know—”

Adam cut him off, “Don’t thank me for that. He’s a _great_ kid.”

Brandon smiled at that, “Thank you. He liked you too.”

Adam blushed, “I’m glad. I feel like maybe I passed a test today.”

Brandon laughed, “Maybe you did.” He took a deep breath and reached a hand up to the back of Adam’s neck to pull him into a kiss. He could feel Adam startle for just a moment before he got into it, which made him want to laugh. But the moment that Adam’s arm slid around his waist, he couldn’t think of _anything_ except the sensations caused by finally having this connection with him. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought a lot about it.

He was the first to pull away, but he didn’t go too far. Watching Adam blink his eyes open was almost too much. He wished he could have thought of something significant to say, but the only thing that came out was, “Oh _wow_.” And he wasn’t even sure if he was talking about the kiss or how shockingly blue his eyes were that close.

Adam laughed a little, maybe self-consciously, “Yeah… Um, maybe I could see you before Wednesday?”

It was Brandon’s turn to laugh. It was three days away, but he agreed that it seemed like _too many_. He had never really believed that the soulmate connection also came with that deep sense of separation anxiety, but he suddenly found himself faced with it. He nodded, “Yeah… I would like that. If you work tomorrow, I could stop by. Maybe you can talk me into buying some skates.”

Adam grinned, “I’m a _really_ good salesman.” He leaned in to press a very gentle kiss to his lips before stepping away, “I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

Brandon nodded, but didn’t trust himself to actually speak. He watched Adam walk over to his car before getting into his own. Glancing in the back, he wasn’t surprised to find Lucas asleep. He leaned his head against the steering wheel and took in a deep breath. There was a big difference between _thinking_ you might have found your soulmate and _knowing_ that you have.

And Brandon _knew_.


	5. Chapter 5

“Can I go down to the glass?” Lucas asked, pushing the knit hat out of his eyes again. Between his father and Adam, he was happily decked out in Moose gear and hadn’t stopped bouncing since he got out of the car. Brandon kept a hand on him, considering how close he was bouncing to the edge of the steps.

“I’ll take him.” Adam offered. He had picked out their seats and was pleased to see that they really were as good as they looked online. (They were cheap because it was a special sale, so he kinda expected to be behind a pole or something, but they were just behind the net half way up the lower bowl.) It was only a few flights of concrete steps down to ice level. He tried to keep pace with Lucas the whole way down, but it wasn’t easy. The steps were shallow, and Adam’s legs were too long.  

Once they were within visual distance of warm ups, Lucas began to point out the players, chattering away about each of them, calling them by their numbers. “Their names,” he explained to Adam, with a sad shake of his head, “are just too hard to say.”

~

Nikolaj wandered down towards the ice after them. He honestly wasn’t sure why he didn’t just park himself in his seat. Furthermore, he didn’t know why he didn’t say no to the game once he’d realized it would be all couples and him. Even Blake had brought a date, though he wasn’t sitting with them.  He said it wasn’t appropriate, but Nikolaj thought it was because they were annoying as all hell. (Or it could have been because who his ‘date’ was was the worst kept secret in the whole store.) Nikolaj didn’t blame him. Going out with the guys from the store was usually fun, but he was doubting this would be. Nikolaj didn’t mind being single, but he did mind being the _only_ single one.

He could hear the kid rambling on and on about the players, but he tuned it out. He wandered a little ways away from them, down the length of the rink, stopping between where they were and where the other team was warming up. He hadn’t really cared who was playing, he just liked to see hockey. Being in a rink was as close to home as he could get in Canada. Most days he didn’t know why he stayed, but life had just led him there and he was too deep in now to give up and go home. Not without knowing why he’d come in the first place.

A puck slammed into the glass in front of him and forced him out of his introspection, “Fuck!” He snapped his head up, but he couldn’t tell where it came from. No one seemed to be looking at him, but the black rubber mark left behind on the glass was too perfectly centered on where he was standing to have been an accident. It could have come from either side, which frustrated him all the more.

He narrowed his eyes on the white jerseys on the far end of the ice. The logo honestly looked like a pot leaf, and he couldn’t figure who had okayed that thing and thought people wouldn’t see it. There was something in the middle of the leaf, but none of them would stand still long enough for him to be able to focus in on what it was. Something yellow. And then suddenly his whole view was filled with the back of a jersey and it took a second for his vision to focus in enough to read the name. _LAINE_.

Nikolaj rolled his eyes. He knew that name. He followed hockey news. If he was supposed to be impressed by this asshole blocking his vision, he wasn’t. He refused to be. He’d never felt short once in his life. He was just over six feet, a perfectly comfortable height. But this asshole? Standing there with his back to him, he could have had half a foot on him, and it was annoying. He was on skates, of course, so that added a few inches, but he was still tall. And blonde. And Nikolaj was overcome with an urge to punch him.

Once he skated away, Nikolaj did everything he could to watch every other player besides him. But somehow, he kept coming back into his line of sight. It was annoying to the point that he had turned to head back to his seat, when he heard something hit the ground near his feet. He glanced up at the glass in time to see the number 29 disappear down the tunnel. Looking over to the ground, he saw the cause of the sound, a puck, still wet from the ice. He would have left it there, except that it seemed to have some tape stuck to the back. It was just curiosity that made him pick it up.

By the time he was back in his seat, he made sure that nothing of that exchange was going to show on his face. He still held the puck in his hand, but he was trying to ignore it. There was no way, with the jeans he was wearing, to put it in his pocket. But he made sure to keep the tape hidden in the palm of his hand. It rubbed against tape he already had there and made the slow burn very difficult to ignore.

“You got one too?” Lucas leaned over Adam to point at the puck in Nikolaj’s hand.

He did all he could not to roll his eyes at the kid, and he _might_ have succeeded. “Yeah.”

Adam snickered, “That’s a very special souvenir you got there, Niky.”

He hadn’t planned to tell _any_ of them about it. He knew he’d just get shit. But now thanks to the kid (he couldn’t be an asshole to the kid, but he wanted to flip him off so badly) he had to fess up or he would _never_ hear the end of it. With a sigh, he flipped it over and held it up so they could see it.

Adam blinked for a full minute. “Someone… gave you their _phone_ _number…_ on a _puck_?!”

Nikolaj nodded, “Yeah, one of guys on the other team, the Marlies.” He didn’t need to tell them which one.  “He flipped it over the glass.”

Ben snatched the puck out of his hand, “That is _smooth_. Even I’m impressed with that.” He tossed it back into Nikolaj’s lap, “You gonna call him?”

He shrugged, “Maybe.” Thankfully at that moment, the lights shifted, and their attention was taken by the pre-game video show. Nikolaj watched for a minute, but his eyes drifted back to the puck in his hands. He flipped it over, so the number wasn’t staring up at him like that. He hadn’t added his name on the tape, but Nikolaj supposed he could look up the roster. Part of him wanted to, another part didn’t want to know.

He had finally convinced himself that he was just going to ignore it (and him) when he caught part of a conversation from his left. They had been talking about the game, so for the most part Nikolaj had tuned them out, but something caught his ear.

“Oh, yes, Laine _is_ that good.” Sami said, adding offhandedly, “I kinda know him.”

Ben laughed, “Because all Finns know each other?”

Sami rolled his eyes, “ _No_ , but he dated my friend that I played hockey with back home. When I was younger, I play for a good team, he play against us. I meet him many times.” He paused, as if considering whether or not he should say more. “He was… not very nice.”

“How isn’t he nice?” Nikolaj leaned forward to ask around Ben. So maybe it was a little rude to join their conversation, but he didn’t care. He needed to know the answer from someone that wasn’t writing an article for TSN.

Sami startled a little and looked over to Nikolaj. He didn’t look annoyed at the intrusion, but he didn’t look like he welcomed it either. “Well…” He sighed, “I don’t know how to say in English. He… think about himself? And hockey. My friend says he think about hockey every minute.”

Ben leaned in and whispered something in Sami’s ear that made him blush. Nikolaj tuned it out and leaned back in his seat, putting his focus back down to the ice. There had been a time in his life that he had been into hockey, but Denmark didn’t really have a lot of roads that lead to the NHL. Not like Finland anyway. He sighed as he watched that number 29 snap the puck into the net just over the goalie’s glove. He heard the kid groan and he smirked a little to himself.

Anyone that followed hockey knew all about the wonder-Finn and the scandals following him. He had been drafted first overall, and promptly ran into _major_ issues with his coach during his rookie year. Of course, the rumors were probably just that, rumors, but if even a fraction of them were true, he was an asshole. There were comments and threats and even reports of a physical altercation behind closed doors. In response to _possibly_ having called his coach some very choice names, he was sent down to the AHL to ‘work on things’. No one missed that the ‘thing’ he needed to work on was his attitude. He was _far_ too good to be there and annoyed the hell out of everyone he played against (and many that he played with, too). They long since stopped throwing hats when he scored three in a game. He’d only scored once in this game, but it was only the first period. Most teams just penciled in the Marlies as a scheduled loss.

None of that was anything Nikolaj wanted to get involved with, but it was getting harder and harder to ignore how _warm_ the palm of his hand felt under the puck he was gripping. Especially after he scored his second goal just before the buzzer sounded to end the first period. Of course, it wasn’t possible that he could see him from where he was sitting, but all the same it felt like he looked right up at Nikolaj while he was celebrating. He shivered.

When Adam and Brandon took the kid out to concession during intermission, Nikolaj took the opportunity to move his seat down to the end of the row. Ben and his date had gotten just a little too friendly for Nikolaj to want to sit next to them much longer. He figured Adam wouldn’t even notice, he hadn’t stopped talking to the kid through the whole game. The space gave Nikolaj a chance to take his phone out and google the Marlies’ roster without anyone looking in on who he was checking up on.

_Patrik_. Of course. Nikolaj groaned but managed to keep it quiet enough that no one noticed. It was going to be that, or Peter, something like that. He hadn’t given much thought to what it would be until that day. He already knew, as much as he was telling himself it _could_ be otherwise. Whether he believed that you _just knew_ or not before, he understood now that it was true, no matter if he wanted it to be or not. Because he _did_ just know. And now thanks to that asshole, it was up to him to do something about it. He programmed the number into his phone.

Text: _Should I tell you which game I’m from? Do you do this puck thing a lot?_

He looked at the text for a long moment before pressing send. If he couldn’t handle a comment like that, he couldn’t be Nikolaj’s soulmate anyway. He shoved his phone into his pocket just as Adam and his crew returned. Predictably, no one cared about the seat change (Ben didn’t even notice) and as the kid was squeezing past him, he dropped a plastic wrapped package into Nikolaj’s lap.

“You looked like you needed a cookie,” Lucas explained with a grin.

Nikolaj didn’t roll his eyes and might have even offered a smile, “Tak.”

Lucas gave him a strange look, “Huh?”

“That was ‘thanks’ in Danish,” Nikolaj explained. “I’m from Denmark,” He added before he got a pastry comment that wasn’t funny the first thousand times he heard it.

“ _Oh._ That’s cool.” The kid blinked at him a few times, “Say it again?”

“ _Tak_.” He repeated.

Lucas tried to copy the inflection as best he could, “ _Tak._ Like that?”

“Not bad.” Nikolaj gave him a genuine smile.

For the most part, the second period was boring. The cookie was good, but Patrik had limited ice time and Nikolaj couldn’t see the visiting bench from the angle of his new seat. The Moose scored twice but were still trailing. Patrik didn’t score, but clearly, he wanted to, and Nikolaj allowed himself to have enough ego to think it had something to do with him. That was confirmed when two minutes into the second intermission, his phone vibrated.

Text: _Meet me at the players exit after the game._

He shoved the phone back in his pocket without replying. Against his will, his heart rate picked up and his focus disappeared. The third period couldn’t go by fast enough. He barley quirked a smile when Patrik scored his third goal and pointed up into the stands at him (or at his general direction), he wasn’t even surprised at that point. His grip on the puck was so hard, he had a red ridge forming a circle in the palm of his hand, around the piece of tape covering his mark.

 After the game ended, Nikolaj heard Adam murmur to the kid that the _next time_ they came, the Moose would win. He bit back the snarky comment he was going to make because the kid looked genuinely upset about the loss. Since Brandon—Nikolaj had a hard time not calling him ‘Shinny’ to his face—had driven in, they headed out almost as soon as the game was over, with some comment about it being past the kid’s bedtime.

Nikolaj looked over to Ben, who had thankfully come up for air long enough to watch at least some of the hockey game, “You guys can go, I’ll get a cab. I want to grab some food anyway.”

Ben clearly thought about protesting, which was a character move rather than an actual desire to have a third wheel, but instead nodded, and lead Sami out to his car.

Nikolaj hung around his seat for a moment as the arena emptied out. He wondered if Patrik would actually wait, if he got there first. He hadn’t replied to the text one way or other, but he had a feeling Patrik’s ego was big enough to convince himself that no one would actually turn him down. His text hadn’t been a question, it had been a statement, an order. Or maybe he realized how much trouble they were in the same way Nikolaj had. Maybe he could no more not wait than Nikolaj could not show up. He took his time heading out, letting the crowd disperse on its own. He was going to go, but he was going to test his theory. By the time he got there, the bus was gone.

Patrik was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed, “Took you long enough.”

“Would have sucked for you if I didn’t show up,” Nikolaj countered.

He laughed, “No chance you weren’t going to show up.”

Nikolaj wanted to challenge that, but he was right, and that pissed him off, “So sure of that?”

“Of course I am.” He pushed off the wall and took a step towards him, “So are you.”

Nikolaj got the impression he was being stalked by a tiger, and rather than intimidate or even scare him, it turned him on in ways he didn’t expect. He held his ground, though. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Mmhmm.” Patrik was standing just a little too close, looking down just a little too much. His eyes were a little too blue, too wide open and honest. Everything about him unnerved Nikolaj more than he would ever admit.

He hid all of that behind a smirk, “So what now? Are you going to take me out to dinner?” He heard his own accent getting thicker, a sign to himself that he was nervous. He didn’t show it, though. He met Patrik’s eyes with what he hoped was an easy, almost casual look.

Patrik’s smirk matched his. He reached out to slide a hand to the back of Nikolaj’s neck. There was nothing he could do to stop the shiver that caused. “No. Not right now anyway.” Patrik pulled him closer, letting his other hand rest on his hip, “I’m going to take you back to your place, and we’re going to see if I can make you lose the rest of your English.”

Nikolaj had both hands on Patrik’s shoulders, but now he slid one up to tangle in his hair, “Good luck.” He stepped in closer and kissed him. It was rough and hard, a challenge to match his words. And Patrik returned everything he was getting, raising the stakes right away. Nikolaj could tell it was going to be a long night.

And Patrik didn’t disappoint.


End file.
